


By the Fire

by Depressedstressedlemonzest



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: An Ineffable Holiday (Good Omens), Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale dosen't think he's worthy, Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale loves Crowley, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley has anxiety, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Fat Aziraphale, Fluff, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Soft Pining, aziraphale hyperfousing, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressedstressedlemonzest/pseuds/Depressedstressedlemonzest
Summary: Aziraphale is in another sticky situation and Crowley saves him again.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 144
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	By the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for @soft-angel-aziraphale an ineffable holiday list! A few days behind unfortunately.   
> But its finished now!
> 
> If you comment please know I love each one, it makes me happy knowing my work makes others happy!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr as Depressedstressedlemonzest! Feel free to say hi!

"Oh bother." Aziraphale muttered as he banged into some furniture, The darkness of the bookshop hiding it In it's shadows.  
The snow storm had caused a power outage of the whole area while he was in the middle of a repair for a first edition of Blothgar.  
He lit a candle and held it out in front of him as he walked around the shop, making his way through his maze as the cold began to seep inside.

He shivered as he walked back to his desk, wanting to finish the work he had started before calling it quits.  
He sat by the light of his single candle and began working again on the spine.

As he worked he thought of many things, keeping his mind busy as he worked.  
Trying to keep at bay the thoughts of the apocalypse that was to be in the next year, if he hadn't done his job right.  
Would Warlock be good like he tried to teach him to be?  
Would he be evil like Crowley tried to influence, though poorly, any influences from hell would probably up the ante of the antichrist. 

His lips shivered as he thought of Warlock the dear smart boy who he loved, even if he was the antichrist, it was his job, his duty as an angel to love him. He was still a boy, a human boy, it was okay to love him right now.   
He was clever and full of wonder at everything. Always has been, always asked why, always asked a million questions about something before regarding it as a fact. 

He noticed his breath coming out as a fog as he exhaled. He ignored it, and began thinking of the last ten years.  
He and Crowley had been influencing Warlock since they started working undercover at the Dowling home. As Brother Francis and Nanny Astoreth, then once Warlock became too old for a nanny, he needed a tutor to keep up in school.   
Coincidentally Nanny Astoreth had formal training as a teacher, or so her resume said when she applied for the job as tutor, naturally, or by a demonic intervention, the Dowlings agreed to keep her on, but as a tutor. 

Aziraphale hated, and was worried to admit it, but Warlock thrived under Crowley's tutelage as Nanny Astoreth.   
Nanny encouraged Warlock to question things, and she answered any and all questions the child asked, He loved learning, and Nanny loved tutoring. 

Nanny loved tutoring about irrigation systems,   
animal husbandry, geometry, when Crowley lost himself with Warlock he would teach him about the stars, about car engines, about gardening. Although with gardening Brother Francis was always close by. Warlock would get the two both talking about plants until they were arguing about the best temperature water should be for watering gardenias to make them grow better.

Aziraphale chuckled to himself, his teeth chattering a bit with the effort. He gave his head a small shake to regain focus on the book rebinding.  
This particular book reminded him of Crowley, it was about a star nymph who flitted the cosmos turning stardust into humans, creating life for the earth, until the real Almighty struck her down and forced her to live among the life she created.

Aziraphale's fingers trembled as he put another swath of glue along the spine. The candlelight flickering wildly, possibly from his movements being too swift with the book repair, possibly from the little gusts of wind coming through the bottom of the door frame.

Aziraphale hummed and rocked his body a bit to himself to keep his mind on task with the book, just a few more things to finish before he was through. He wanted to finish this, had to finish it before he called the day finished, this book he was going to trade for an equally rare first edition that he had been trying to obtain for several years.

Aziraphale's mind began to wander back to the upcoming apocalypse, and to young Warlock. The family was on a trip to the South Pacific on a cruise at the moment, of course they didn't need a gardener with them, and Nanny Astoreth couldn't handle the choppy ocean waves, so he and Crowley were on a vacation for a couple weeks. Since they weren't at the Dowlings they hadn't seen each other since their departure. 

Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit tired, he frowned, and blinked several times to wake himself up more. He thought of Crowley and how he was concerned about Warlock being on a cruise, stuck with his parents for an extended amount of time. 

"Not the most attentive." He had muttered when Aziraphale inquired as to why he was worried.   
Aziraphale had understood, he was worried as well.

He reached for his cocoa, but frowned when he realized it wasn't within reach.  
He rose from his chair, and grabbed his candle.  
After taking a couple steps toward the kitchenette he felt uncharacteristically dizzy and reached to steady himself by grabbing at a shelf of one of the bookcases.

He missed the shelf and the motion threw him off balance, and he stumbled.  
He tried to right himself but was unsuccessful and gravity and lack of balance brought the angel to the ground.  
He lied on the ground, confused as to how he got there, he was so tired...

A crack sounded, waking the angel, but he was so comfortable he didnt want to move or open his eyes.  
He felt like he was wrapped in a cocoon, a warm cocoon, that felt like soft feathers, made of cashmere. A heat that felt like the physical manifestation of love rolled over him, spreading from his chest to his fingertips, from the tip of his ears to the soles of his feet.

He felt something nudge him followed by a quiet curse in a familiar whispered tone.  
Aziraphale's eyes fluttered open, his view was obstructed by a tartan pattern that he recognized as one from a blanket he had draped along the bookshop couch.

"Sorry angel, I wasnt trying to wake you." Crowley's voice mumbled from above.

Aziraphale wiggled a bit until his view was no longer obstructed by the blanket. And he blushed a shade of crimson realizing his head was in Crowley's lap, but he was so warm and comfortable he didnt want to move.

"Um, Crowley why is my head rested on your lap?" Aziraphale asked trying not to offend his friend.

"To save you from freezing to death, or, well discorporating to death." Crowley said with a huff.

"Freezing to death?" Aziraphale asked sitting up looking at Crowley. As he rose he realized they were on his bookshops couch, and the fireplace in front of them was roaring, and he was indeed wrapped in the tartan blanket. 

The demon was studying him closely, his amber eyes hinting at concern, the hold of his mouth gaving that emotion away.   
When he was upset the demon would jut his chin out and run his bottom lip between his teeth, tearing the skin to near shreds, the current state of his lip was nearly gnawed off his face.  
One arm was draped around the back of the couch, the other was resting where Aziraphale's head had just been, now twiddling with a pocket zipper on his leather pants. His hair flaming and wild like the fire was sticking in all directions, not even under the illusion of seeing a comb that day.

"What exactly happened? I'm a bit, er fuzzy." Aziraphale asked looking at Crowley's face.

Crowley turned from Aziraphale to face the fire, the light flickering making his face dance between shadows.

"I came over to check how you were doing, I heard most of SoHo had lost power, but my flat still had connection. If yours had gotten off I was going to see if you wanted to warm up at my place until the power came back on." Crowley said in a low tone.

"When I got here, the power was out, and when i came in the door, and you were," he paused turning his gaze to look at Aziraphale.

"You were collapsed in the middle of the floor of the bookshop, barely breathing, pulse fading, skin tinted blue. You wouldn't answer me when I called your name..." he stopped for a minute biting down on his lip hard.

Aziraphale's eyes widened, he could only imagine what that scene had looked like, what thoughts must have been flowing through Crowley's mind, the emotions that cropped in his brain at the sight of him collapsed on the floor. 

"Crowley..." Aziraphale said softly, guilt flooding his tone.  
Crowley turned to face the angel, his plump lips still had the slightest tinge of blue to them. His eyes were watery, and he was hugging himself. 

"I'm so, very sorry, I must have worried you tremendously. I had simply wanted to finish that one book repair. I didnt think the cold would seep in so quickly, or that it would be so fierce. " Aziraphale said his voice quavering. 

"Angel, " Crowley said, hand reaching for Aziraphale, placing a hand on his rounded shoulder. 

"You're probably the only person I know who would apologize for succumbing to hypothermia." Crowley said with a chuckle. 

Aziraphale chuckled weakly with him.  
Feeling the weight of Crowley's slender hand on his shoulder Aziraphale looked at it, and his face went a shade of pink.   
Crowley cringed and began to pull his hand away.  
"N-no" Aziraphale stuttered. 

Crowley's eyes widened and he left his hand on Aziraphale's shoulder.

Aziraphale felt the warmth radiating from Crowley's hand, felt it radiate through his arm and through his form.

"So if you found me collapsed on the floor, how did...?" Aziraphale asked trailing off quietly.

Crowley's eyes shifted from the angel to the fire, "I picked you up and carried you over here, started a fire, grabbed your blankets, and sat by you until you woke up." He said with a blush creeping onto his face.

Aziraphale's eyes widened a bit at that information, he wasn't exactly built for people to be picking him up, not humans anyway, though Crowley's occult forces probably made it easier on him.

"That was very kind of you." Aziraphale said in a thick voice, he was very appreciative that Crowley didnt just leave him for dead like any other demon. Though Crowley was his friend he wasnt exactly sure if he felt the same in return. 

"Kind of me?" Crowley snarled in an angry tone, his hand yanking off the Angel's shoulder, his head jerking to face Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale bit his bottom lip, "yes, it was, kind of you." He said stuttering a bit.

"Angel, why wouldn't I have helped you, saved you from discorporating and killing yourself?" Crowley snapped, his tone sounding hurt.

Aziraphale didnt want to answer him, didnt want to say, 'because you're a demon, because hell could find out and kill us both for your disobedience, because It's not worth risking you to save me.'  
Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, his face was yearning, like he had an ache in his soul.

Crowley sighed, washing his face of expressions, making the hard angles of his face release from tension, making him look all of the 6000 years he was.  
"Angel, you're, you're my best friend, you're the only thing keeping me on this bloody planet, the only thing I wake up for a majority of the time. If I lost you..." Crowley trailed off and raised his hand to Aziraphale's face, his fingers coiling into the blonde curls at the nape of Aziraphale's neck, his spindly thumb grazing the Angel's plump cheek.

Aziraphale looked into Crowley's eyes, and felt his heart flutter.  
The corner of Crowley's eyes crinkled, and he bit his bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the tender bruised skin there.  
Aziraphale could feel flashes of love, and they were rolling over him like waves of a hurricane.  
He gently leaned in and pressed his lips against Crowley's. 

Crowley's lips were tense against his own at first, but after a few moments of registration, they relaxed and pressed against his lips softly.

After a moment they pulled away, and Crowley's lips parted with a sigh and broke into a soft smile.  
Aziraphale sheepishly smiled back, "been wanting to do that a rather long time." He said as he watched a blush spread in Crowley's cheeks. 

"Oh have you?" Crowley asked raising an eyebrow.

"Quite a long time, centuries in fact." Aziraphale said feeling a blush warm his own cheeks.

Aziraphale wiggled closer to Crowley holding the blanket to where Crowley could be wrapped up also, and Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and tucked himself under the blanket.

Together they sat in an embrace warmed by the beating of their hearts, and by the glow of the fire.


End file.
